


By the Son of Odin

by suchaprettyface



Series: The Dreamfasting [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, but wait there's more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchaprettyface/pseuds/suchaprettyface
Summary: Surprise, I'm back! Finally, finally continuing this poor neglected series.This work, however long it ends up being, will continue the story of the Dreamfasting.  This is still an alternate timeline, which began shortly after the events of Age of Ultron and will happily ignore most of what came after.  I may or may not involve Thanos at some point, but for now, let's worry about the fallout of Frigga's meddling in our Star-Spangled hero's DNA and Thor's quest to find out who, or what, Loki really is.In this part, we have another important revelation, a bit of shaggery, and a look into Loki's weird new life at Avengers HQ.





	1. Chapter 1

  


The sky over Avengers Headquarters was a riot of stars, each one its own stunning color and brightness, some at the center of vast galaxies and some hanging on the edge of others like a child from its mother’s skirt.  

As he did every clear evening, Loki slipped up to the roof and sat for hours, watching the stars wheel and wondering idly which Thor could see from Asgard.  Surely a few were far enough from Earth that they’d be close enough to the Realm Eternal--Heimdall had said as much, though any that shone in both galaxies would be faint, straining to touch both ends of the night.

He sat cross-legged with his back against an upright part of the roof, one of the supports that held up the great glass ceiling over the Avengers’ training area, and drank in the silence, the absence of garish fluorescent light. 

 Of all the places he might have ended up after his travels and exiles, the fact that he was here, on what was widely considered a primitive and useless planet by Asgardians, essentially as a house pet, was both amusing and rankling.

 And now, six weeks later, Steve was off a mission Loki was not privy to with several of the others, and Loki was bored.

 He was permitted to leave the base only in Steve’s company, and only with one of Stark’s magic-inhibiting tracking devices clamped around his neck; Loki let them believe that the devices worked, just in case he needed to escape at some point.  He hadn’t survived this long without keeping his options open.

 He had, somehow, managed to make a couple of tentative friends, or at least had found a handful of people who didn’t hate him on sight--mostly those who weren’t around during New York, unless one counted Agent Romanov, who sometimes appeared out of nowhere to ask a couple of cryptic questions and listen to his answers with a degree of focus that made him wonder what she was up to.  But she always gave him a nod of acknowledgment even when they passed in the hall, a gesture almost no one else bestowed upon him--the general consensus it seemed was no one should look him in the eye, and it was best not to talk to him lest he, how had Barton put it, “put the whammy” on them. 

 Loki didn’t try to explain that he was rather lacking in whammy--he had plenty of power, even more than ever before thanks to Steve, but mind control was not in his skillset anymore.  They knew perfectly well the Scepter was gone, and its Infinity Stone was safe for now in the Vision’s forehead, but apparently Loki was just evil enough and just powerful enough to figure out how to control people without it.

 Nonsense, of course.  He could be very persuasive, and it was easy to get humans to do as he bade them without the Mindstone, but that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with the other talents he’d developed as a frail and picked-on outsider.  Flattery, emotional manipulation, reading someone’s body language…he’d done all of that to Agent Romanov and gotten pretty effectively under her skin aboard the helicarrier without a single magical stone in hand.

 As for Romanov…there was some sorrow that dogged her steps, he saw after a while, and at first he’d wondered if she harbored romantic feelings toward Captain Rogers, but soon he realized that wasn’t it…it was someone else.  He could have asked Steve, but he would rather figure it out himself; important to keep one’s perception sharp.   A few days later he knew exactly what was going on, just by paying attention.  Strange how humans wanted to attribute magical origins to an ability made up of observation and perception…perhaps so that their lack of it wasn’t their own failing.

 Loki wasn’t unhappy, here, exactly.  Unhappiness implied the expectation of better, and he had learned not to hope for happiness long ago.  Depressing a worldview as it might be, it did mean that what he had been given--or rather whom--continually delighted him.  As he’d told Thor once, an optimist could only rarely be pleasantly surprised.

 The God of Thunder was back on Asgard seeking out more of Frigga’s diaries; he’d declared he would get to the truth even if he had to stand up to Odin to do it, and Loki, for one, would have loved to see that.  Thor had left with a strange determination in his eyes, though.  He said he would find the truth, and Loki was actually inclined to believe him.

 “Good evening, sir.”

 Loki looked over and nodded.  The others would have told his visitor that “sir” wasn’t necessary.  The others weren’t royalty.  Loki would never have a kingdom, and certainly not one he’d wanted, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit to living in a democracy.  “Vision.”

 “I do not wish to intrude upon your meditations, but I hoped we could schedule another match, perhaps tomorrow?  You had mentioned showing me how to evade the Ornowski Gambit.”

 “Certainly,” Loki replied.  “In the evening, let’s say seven--in case the doctors wish to stick me with more needles.”

 The Vision bowed.  “I look forward to it.”  He frowned, though, and asked, “Have the doctors uncovered anything useful in all these tests?”

 “They don’t seem inclined to share their results.  I would be offended but apparently they are no more forthcoming with Captain Rogers.”

 “I have not observed any outward changes in the Captain these last few weeks.”

 “Nor have I,” Loki replied, and it wasn’t a lie; in public, Steve was the same as he had been.  He was very deliberately behaving as it nothing had changed, so that even as his DNA was mutating, Fury would have no reason to think he was anything but the hero as always.

 But in private they were working with the magic now, calling it forth, and the more Steve learned to use it…well, Loki wasn’t sure how much longer his “normal” act was going to convince anyone.

 “Would you grant me a favor?” Loki asked.

 The Vision actually looked honored.  “If I am able, I will.”

 “If you notice anything odd about the Captain, will you notify me?  I understand you are likely duty-bound to tell Fury, I’d just like to know too, since I doubt Fury will tell me anything unless forced.”

 “I shall.  The Captain is a good man, and you…”

 Loki looked at him, lifting an eyebrow.  “What am I?”

 He frowned, red brow wrinkling in thought.  “I am told by one and all that you are a villain, yet your behavior here has not borne that out.  I know the facts, of course, but I would rather form my own opinion here and now--for I know that you are not the same here and now as you were then.  So.  Chess tomorrow, and if I notice our Captain sprouting horns or shooting fire from his eyes, I will immediately let you know.”

 Loki had to smile at that.  “Thank you.”

 Vision left then, but it was only a few minutes before Loki caught movement in his peripheral vision, a young woman in a hooded jacket moving like a skittish colt.  She seemed uncertain whether to acknowledge she knew he was there or not, though it was well known he spent his evenings up here stargazing.

 “Ms. Maximoff,” he said quietly, eyes up toward the sky, “if you are looking for the Vision he just left.”

 She made an inarticulate noise of denial.  “Why would I…no, of course not.”

 “Hmm.”

 He waited, silent, until she made up her mind to move closer and sat down several feet away, producing a bottle of soda.  She spoke a little hesitantly in her mother tongue when she asked, “Why do you think I would be looking for him?”

 It pleased him that she knew she could speak her own language and he would understand.  Sokovian had only taken a few hours to learn, as it shared its roots with a number of others and borrowed heavily from several more.  It was a patchwork that could easily have been discordant, but it had an angular sort of poetry to it he liked. “I am observant.”

 “Sam Wilson says the Vision likes me--I think he is right.”  She clearly felt as odd about asking him as he felt about being asked, but perhaps she simply had no one else:  “What do you do when someone likes you like that?”

 He shot her a smile.  “Well, if you’re me, apparently you’ll try to take over his planet and then your mother will cast a spell on you to throw you together like stubborn cattle who won’t mate.”

 She barked a short laugh. 

 “I can give you precious little advice, Ms. Maximoff.  I have never been what you would call lucky in love.”  He thought back to his youth, to the years he had been sure he loved Sif – and how foolish he’d felt when he realized she, like everyone else, only had eyes for Thor.  “Spell or no spell…Captain Rogers is the first person who has ever chosen me, just as I am.”

 “I wish my brother was here,” she said softly.

 Again, he thought of Thor.  He’d wanted Thor dead at his feet, he’d claimed…but had he?  What if it had really come to pass?

 “I am sorry,” Loki said.  “I know what it is to feel left behind by the person who understood you best in the world.  Perhaps you have another chance--have you tried having an actual conversation with the Vision?  I daresay you’d find him pleasant company.”

 “I don’t know,” she replied, staring up at the sky.  “He’s…odd.”

 The look Loki gave her made her burst out laughing.  It was a good sound, one he didn’t imagine she let emerge often enough. 

 “All right, we are all odd,” she admitted.  “In a world like ours full of magic, and machines that think, and gods from other planets, I suppose he is not so odd a thing.  I just don’t know how I feel about…”

 “You don’t _have_ to feel anything, Ms. Maximoff.  Have a cup of tea and play chess, see if you have anything to talk about.  If nothing else I expect you could use a friend as badly as anyone here.”

 Slowly, she nodded.  “Yes…all right.  I will think about it.”

 As she got up to leave, he said, “I wanted to thank you.”

 “Me for what?”

 “The things you taught Captain Rogers in those early days may well have saved his life, or at least his mind.  He trusted you for help and you gave him precisely what he needed.  I shan’t forget that and I know neither will he.”

 She averted her eyes and smiled.  “Well, I like how it worked out.”

 “You do?”

 “He doesn’t yell so much anymore.  He’s happy.  For a while I thought I would never be good enough to Avenge, to be part of the team.  Turns out it wasn’t me, it was him being unhappy and having too many expectations.  Thinking too much about a life he might have had long ago, a normal life with houses and babies.”  


“I see.”

 “Now that he’s in a better frame of mind, I feel like I belong here, like I am part of the team and not just a liability. You did that.  You and your spell.  So you thank me, but I thank you.”

 Loki hid a smile.  Those few words made him feel a hundred times better than he had for weeks.  “You are welcome, Ms. Maximoff.”

 “Wanda.”

  Now, he did smile at her, inclining his head.  He gestured faintly at himself and said, “Loki.”

 She disappeared--one thing she and the Vision definitely had in common was their shadow-silent way of entering and leaving a place.   Was there enough between them, potentially, for an actual relationship?  Would either of them handle something purely sexual well enough not to damage each other, assuming the Vision even had the prerequisite body parts?  Or would the Vision’s infatuation cool off into nothing more than a working friendship? 

 And when, exactly, had Loki become the Avengers’ relationship counselor?

 He barely noticed it at first; he’d been so surprised that anyone wanted to speak to him at all without Steve present.  His comings and goings were not secret--that was part of the deal--so nearly everyone knew where to find him at any given time of day or night.  It seemed to happen most up here, where there were fewer potential witnesses or prying ears; now and then, he’d wind up sitting here at night with one of the others, letting them prattle on about this drama or that fear, and he’d just…listen. 

 Bizarre.

 He listened to them, and to his own shock didn’t spend the time counting minutes until they shut up.  Something about the tiny problems of these extraordinary people was endlessly fascinating.  He’d always been something of a collector of secrets; secrets were currency on nearly every world.  Figuring out how the puzzle of someone fit together, or didn’t, was just like learning languages, and another pastime he’d shared with Frigga.  But he’d never really _cared_ about other people’s problems enough to think of what would help them.

 Steve was the culprit, he supposed.  Steve should have been an ordinary man, and in many ways was, but even the most mundane trouble had to be filtered through the lens of his unique history, his power, his job.  Loki had understood early on that most of the people here confided in no one.  They believed their problems were far too insignificant in the face of possible global destruction or any of its adjacent disasters.

 On the contrary, it was extraordinary days that made ordinary problems so much more important.  If the world ended tomorrow, it would be those seemingly-little things they would regret:  not taking a chance on love, not risking vulnerability for the possibility of joy. 

 The fact that Loki of all people was having such thoughts alarmed him at first, but then he understood:  the Captain might not be the only subject of the dreamfasting finding himself changed.  As Steve became more Asgardian--stronger, subtly more and more regal--so Loki seemed to have become just a touch more human. 

 Frightening as it might have been, there was it seemed nothing he could do about it, and given the alternative of life without the dreamfasting, he was willing to accept a sliver of humanity if that was the price he had to pay.

 He leaned his head back and let it rest on the bricks, looking up at the stars again.  It was truly peaceful up here this time of night; there were often night-time training sessions down below, but just now most of the denizens of HQ were at the dinner table, usually in groups, laughing and talking.  Part of Loki wished he could be invited to such social gatherings, recalling the days he’d almost, almost felt he belonged among Thor and his warrior friends, but a larger part preferred this:  sitting here alone, able to think, with the occasional company of a troubled Avenger who was afraid to voice her feelings to the others. 

 He wasn’t sure if Steve would be home tonight or not, but when he started awake at a light kiss on his forehead, he had his answer.

 “Hey,” Steve said softly.  “Sorry to wake you.  I just wanted to tell you I’m back…and see if you wanted to come down.  There’s something I need to show you.”

 The Captain was no longer in uniform, but obviously recently showered; his hair was slightly damp, and the generic scent of the soap SHIELD stocked at its outposts clung lightly to his skin.  There was a livid bruise under his left eye--already healing, which meant it had to have been spectacular an hour ago. 

 “I’m fine,” Steve said to the unasked question.  “No casualties, just scrapes and bruises for everybody.  And lots of explosives.  I took a shower at the field office – that uniform was toast.  Kind of literally.”

 “Too bad,” Loki said, though his heart was pounding.  Steve was always most nonchalant when he’d been an inch from death.  Loki hadn’t sensed anything amiss, but that only meant Steve hadn’t been afraid or in pain; it didn’t mean he hadn’t been in jeopardy.  “I would have liked to scrub your back.”

 Steve grinned.  “Well you can at least come finish that nap in my bed.”

 That was far too enticing an invitation to turn down. Loki smiled and held out his hands, letting Steve pull him up to his feet and into a brief but tight embrace.

 “I know,” Steve murmured.  “You were worried.  I could feel it.”

 “Pure self-preservation,” Loki replied.  “You and I both know what will happen to me if you die.”

 Another grin.  “You’ll vanish off the face of the Earth before Fury or anyone else can lay a hand on you.”

 “I suppose.”  Loki let the Captain lead him to the stairwell, not saying what he was really thinking:  as if, were something to happen to Steve, Loki would bother trying to escape and not simply accept his fate.  As if without him, Loki would have anywhere left to go, or any reason to want to.   He didn’t want Steve to feel any more pressure than he already did, and “if you aren’t with me I’ll die” was hardly a fair thing to say to one’s beloved.  But in truth, where would he go?  He had a dozen escape routes already mapped out…and no real interest in using any of them. 

 Beheaded by Fury, beheaded by Odin, tortured to death by Thanos, flesh stripped from his bones and eaten by the Chitauri…if his dreamfasted died, what difference did it make?

 At least there was one comforting thing:  the changes in Steve’s DNA were slowing his aging process even further.  He would have been amazingly long-lived for a human already, assuming he wasn’t shot or blown up, but now, it was unlikely he’d grow another year older.  Loki wouldn’t have to watch him become an old man and succumb to the gradual decay of humanity. 

 Loki was, as far as he could tell, the only one who found that reassuring.

 “You’re thinking too much again,” Captain Rogers said once they were in the elevator. 

 Loki sighed, but gave him a sidelong look and said, “So distract me.”

 He slid his arm around Loki’s waist and pulled him close, into a kiss that lasted almost exactly as long as the trip to their floor.  They’d learned to time it perfectly.

 They weren’t normally demonstrative outside of quarters, but it was nearly impossible to keep their hands off each other in that last moment before achieving privacy, and luckily there was almost never anyone else in the elevator.  They had of course scandalized a few interns and, once, Selvig, who made a strangled noise and bolted like a rabbit.  At least all their clothes had been on…that time.

 Steve nearly dropped the key card twice before he managed to get the door open.  Loki started to make a joke about his sudden lack of grace, but before he could get a word out, Steve pushed him back against the door and kissed him again, this time almost feverishly. 

 Change number one.  Loki had noticed early on that after battle, especially an arduous or ambiguous one where the line between “us” and “them” was blurred, the Captain was quiet, even brooding.  Asgardians on the other hand tended to feast and fuck with fervor after victory, sometimes for days, regardless of the circumstances of battle.  But as time wore on, Steve returned from Avenging more and more charged. 

 Loki might have lamented feeling like a warrior’s wife left home while the menfolk went to war, but nights like this, when Steve’s teeth were digging into his throat and his hands seemed to be everywhere, Loki remembered he was not an idiot, and did not complain.

 “What was it you wanted to show me?” Loki asked breathlessly.  “It sounded important.”

 “Later,” Steve murmured.  “More important things to do right now.”

 It would have been easy--and far more enjoyable--to simply surrender to the Captain’s attentions…but he could sense something was amiss.  Something in the way Steve was moving, some edginess, tension.  He was trying to ignore a thing that was bothering him, and though he might succeed for a while, Loki could already feel the anxiety building even as Steve pulled him along toward the bedroom.

 Things had a tendency to fall and break when Steve was upset.  He only rarely lost control these days, and always in private, but the more often it happened the more likely it was that one day he’d start breaking things in front of the others again.  They all thought he was far past that; he was dealing far better than Loki believed most humans would, but if they had any idea how volatile their leader remained, Steve would be back in the Zoo in a heartbeat.

 “Captain…”

 Steve ignored the knowing tone in his voice and pushed him slowly onto the bed, pausing to strip off his own t-shirt and toss it carelessly on the floor.  Loki waited another moment, observing his demeanor with an inward sigh.  Something was definitely wrong and it wasn’t fading even with kisses and nips. 

 Another sigh, and Loki said, quietly but firmly, “Stop.”

 Steve froze.  Loki almost never used that tone--it was too close to the one that sent crowds of humans to their knees--but it was guaranteed to break through whatever storm was forming in Steve’s head. 

 The Captain pulled away from him, sitting back up, and his voice was small, afraid.  “What did I do?”

 Even with his current mindset Steve was hypersensitive to Loki’s reactions in bed; he constantly worried about triggering bad memories for both of them.  It might have come off as cloying, but for some reason, Loki found it endearing… no one had ever cared about him that much, at least not at such an intimate level.

 “Nothing,” Loki told him, keeping his voice low and gentle.  “You did nothing wrong, my darling.  But I’m worried about you.  Something isn’t right, and even if I didn’t care about your well being, it’s rather distracting.”

 A faint smile.  “I’m sorry.”

 “You have nothing to be sorry about.  Just tell me what’s going on.”

 Steve leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, head bowed.  “I…I did something.  During the fight…and the others saw.  Well, some of them did--I know Natasha did.  I don’t think anyone’s going to rat me out to Fury, but…I can’t be sure.”

 Loki sat up as well.  “What did you do?”

 He took a deep breath.  “We were sent in to secure one of Ultron’s murder bots--there have been pieces found here and there, but this one was almost completely intact, built out of scraps from several others. Hydra was _this_ close to getting it operational, and I don’t have to tell you what a bad idea that is.  None of them have any kind of consciousness without Ultron himself, but the tech is way past what we really want the outside world to get its hands on--especially not Hydra.  Every time I think we’ve gotten the last one, another pops up somewhere.  They figured out we were coming and had the whole place crawling with soldiers.”

 Loki nodded.  “Go on.”

 “It was a rough fight, even with support.  Sam and Tash got pinned down, and I was fighting my way to them, but there were a dozen men to their two, and both were wounded.  Sam’s wing had been hit and he couldn’t take off.  I knew I wasn’t going to get there fast enough.  I didn’t even think about it, really…I just saw the thugs were about to open fire, and…then all of their guns exploded.  Literally exploded.  There were these little bursts of green light, and they went down one by one--a lot of them without heads.”

 “Oh dear,” Loki said.  “Heads are rather important.”

 “When I realized I was the one who’d done it, I caught myself wondering how many of the others I could take out without anyone having to fire another shot.  I didn’t even try--I didn’t actively decide to do anything.  But they just started falling down with their arms and heads blown off.  Next thing I knew the ones left standing had all thrown down their guns.”

 “That was the first time you’d used magic in combat,” Loki noted with a nod.

 “I’ve broken stuff, and changed things in the dreamfasting…and I healed you that one time…but I’ve never used it as a weapon.”

 He regarded the Captain quietly for a moment.  A weapon was a weapon, wasn’t it?  In a fight to the death any and all advantage must be claimed.  But he reminded himself that here, magic’s existence was new and frightening despite having been in every children’s story for centuries, and up until now Steve had been working with his in a defensive capacity, to protect both himself and others.  “If you’d had a gun, would you have shot them all?”

 “Only as many as I had to, to reach Tash and Sam.  I wouldn’t have mowed every one of them down.”  He ran his hands back through his hair.  “I don’t like killing people.  I try my damnedest not to need to.”

 “I see.”  Loki moved around behind him, wrapping his legs around the Captain’s waist, and slid his hands up into short blonde hair to scratch his nails lightly over Steve’s scalp.  It had the desired effect: after a minute Steve sighed, and his posture became less rigid.  “You said that after you took out those soldiers, the rest surrendered--would any of them, had you not shown your hand?”

 “Probably not.  There’s nothing more suicidal than a true believer.”

 “Then perhaps you might focus more on the men who did not die because of those that did.  I’m not saying it’s ideal,” Loki said, cutting off Steve’s objection.  “But you cannot undo it.  Those men are dead regardless of whether you judge yourself harshly or not--but if you are willing to learn from what happened, you can learn to disarm or incapacitate the next army at a distance without killing a single one.”

 “That’s not all of it, though.”

 Loki tried not to display any reaction, but inwardly he groaned.  _What now?_   “All right.”

 “You know how Scarlet Witch’s power shows up as red light, and ours is green?  Well…not so much, now.  I didn’t see it until later when I was hiding behind a tree trying to ground myself, but…look.”

 Steve lifted a hand, and light kindled around his fingers like it always did…but he was right…it wasn’t green anymore.  It had the same faint greenish undertone, but the fire itself had turned blue, like the center of a flame.

 “At least it matches your uniform,” Loki said wryly.     

 “But what does it mean?”

 He shrugged.  “Energy is energy, but the person it moves through and the kind of magic they practice adds its own flavor.  I’ve never been able to decide if mine is green because I’m me, or because Frigga’s was, and she was my teacher and I learned with her spells.  Perhaps yours started off that way because it had come from me via the dreamfasting, but now it’s becoming your own.  Honestly, Captain, I would not panic about it.  What’s more pressing is that clearly we need to work on controlling projection now as much as defense.”

 “Assuming Fury doesn’t get wind of it and decide we’re too much of a liability.”

 “I told you before, darling…if that happens, we are free to quit this realm, and find a home somewhere that you will be accepted for all of who you are.  Such places exist all over the cosmos--and in some, you would be hailed as even more of a hero than here, not in spire of your abilities, but because of them.”

 Loki had given Steve some variation of the “Don’t lose your mind, we can always run away” talk a number of times over the last couple of months, and as usual, the logic helped as much as the physical contact did. 

 He often wondered if anyone else knew how trapped the Captain felt by his own identity.  Loki suspected that was part of his own allure: he cared little for the Avengers’ mission as superheroes, and had no need for Steve to stay one unless it made him happy…which, he was increasingly seeing, it didn’t.  Steve wanted to help people, to use what he had been given for the benefit of all humankind, but dealing with SHIELD had left him disillusioned, tired, and far more depressed than he would ever admit.

 Knowing that there was an escape, even if he never took it, was a huge relief to the Captain.  Like anyone else regardless of species or creed, he just wanted to feel like he had a choice in his own fate.

 “I feel different,” Steve said softly.  “I don’t know how to describe it, but...every day it gets stronger.  I…”

 “You’re afraid,” Loki finished for him, drawing him down onto his back and stretching out beside him.  He tucked the Captain’s head under his chin--Steve had a hard time with eye contact when he was emotional.  “You would be insane not to be, you know.”

 “I wish I had some kind of map to follow.  Any kind of idea what’s going to happen to me.  I mean, let’s assume I’m turning completely into an Asgardian--what does that mean?  How is it really different?  I know what Thor’s like, but aside from physical strength, what’s changing?  I don’t understand it.”

 “I cannot tell you,” Loki replied.  “I am not Asgardian either.” 

 “I know I’m different in the field.  I try not to be.  But even before today I could feel it--I keep catching myself having a much better time than I should be.  The adrenaline is amazing…and awful.”  He tilted his head back, and looked in Loki’s face.  “I’m not getting taller, am I?”

 Loki laughed.  “Not that I’ve noticed.  Your head comes up to where it always has when you’re on your knees.”

 Steve’s ears pinked ever so slightly, but his voice turned wry.  “You’re still just the right height when I’ve got you pinned to the shower wall with my dick.”

 Loki laughed again, and this time the Captain managed a chuckle.  “So what else is there?” Steve went on.  “I was already way stronger than regular humans.  That just doesn’t seem like enough of a dramatic change to make me feel this strange.”

 A thought occurred.  “Let me into your mind,” Loki said.  “While you sleep tonight, let me look into your dreams.  I might get a better sense of what’s happening to you.”

 Steve nodded.  “Assuming I dream about it.”

 “I can make sure that you do...provided of course you trust me to muck about in your head without your full conscious presence.”

 He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I trust you?”

 “I am not saying you don’t--just that this is not something we’ve tried before.”

 Steve smiled and touched his face.  “I trust you.  Muck about all you want.”

 “Well, first you’ll have to fall asleep.”

 “I don’t know,” the Avenger said doubtfully…but there was a sparkle in his eye.  “I’m feeling pretty wired.”

 “Allow me, then, to unwire you.” 

 The sparkle turned genuinely playful, as well as fond.  “You always do.”

 After the day the Captain had had, and the gravity of his thoughts, Loki opted against anything drawn out; he needed Steve asleep, yes, but Steve _needed_ sleep, and always seemed to run at a slight deficit of rest.  Most humans did no matter what care they took with their bodies.  Being a modern human seemed defined by two things:  Exhaustion and debt. 

 Loki shifted so he was halfway on top of Steve, peering down into his face.  “For the moment forget all your worries and what you’ve seen and done today.  Just close your eyes and let yourself feel.”  He leaned down and kissed each of the Captain’s closed eyelids.  “Lay down your burdens for a little while…they will still be here tomorrow.  And in the meantime we are here together, and you are absolutely safe.”

 “I know,” Steve sighed.  “You’d happily stab anyone that tried to get in here.”

 “True, your body is safe…but that isn’t what I meant.  For now, right now, your heart is safe.”

 A smile.  “I know that too.”

 “Good.”  Loki kissed him softly, deliberately keeping things slow and relaxed while his hands took their own time getting the rest of the Captain’s clothes off.  They were so used to touching each other by now that he noticed immediately when a press of his palm drew a slight twitch of pain, and he looked down to see, to his dismay, a mottling of bruises along Steve’s hip and left thigh, along with several other concentrations of blue and purple in the usual places. 

 He wanted to admonish Steve for once again leaving his left side open, especially the legs; he tended to fight from the waist up and not protect himself below shield level.  It would not do for the world to figure out Captain America had a defensive weakness, and Loki knew from experience the easiest way to get him down was to go for the knees, preferably in the half-second after he’d thrown the shield but before he’d had time to transition to the next move. 

Now was not the time to make an issue of it, of course.  Loki filed the information away for tomorrow; perhaps he could even suggest sparring, and bring it up then.  That was one thing they hadn’t done in all these months, fight each other, even for practice.  It would be a good way to size up the changes in Steve’s reflexes and strength, as Loki had plenty of experience fighting with, and against, Asgardians. 

 “You okay?” Steve asked.  He already sounded drowsy, though even with all the bruises nearby his cock was perfectly alert and waiting for attention. 

 “Just trying to figure out where to touch you that won’t hurt,” he replied.  “Perhaps I should take the hint your lovely body is giving me and not bother using my hands.”

 Loki shifted downward again, fixing his attention on the member in question, and placed the lightest possible kiss on its head, causing a tremor to run through Steve’s entire body.  Smiling, Loki repeated the motion, then parted his lips and licked, again lightly, then with gradually increasing pressure, moving down Steve’s length, in no hurry, content to enjoy the tiny gasps and the way Steve clutched the comforter in time with each lick.

 Meanwhile he wrapped threads of magic around the Captain, drawing him deeper into sensation, farther from conscious thought and into a state where nothing existed but skin and the slow burn building in his body.

 A low groan.  “…love you…”

 Loki didn’t reply aloud, but thought at him quite clearly, _“And I, you.”_

 A smile found Steve’s lips but was quickly replaced by an indrawn breath; he bit his lip against another groan as Loki changed tactics and took the Captain’s cock down his throat, sliding along it languidly.  The deeply masculine, still all too human smell of Steve’s skin hit him as he reached the hilt, and now he too groaned, the vibration making Steve shudder almost violently.

 Still taking his time, Loki concentrated on the energy again, setting a slow current between them that rose and fell as his tongue did along the shaft in his mouth.  He loved that feeling, its thickness, its weight, and most especially the effect his ministrations were having; he had spent long hours learning every millimeter, but he never grew tired of repeating the lesson.

 He could bring his dreamfasted off in a minute or less if he liked--and had, in those fast and frantic encounters they’d dared once in a while around the compound--but let things go on for a while this time, building pressure and tempo until Steve was clawing at the bed, trying to find something to hang onto while his entire being unraveled into Loki’s mouth.  Loki reached up with one hand and twined their fingers together, chuckling at how strong Steve’s grip was.  He likely would have broken a mortal lover’s hand.

 Finally, reluctantly, Loki drove the energy up to a peak, sucking harder, applying a slight twisting motion that he knew was almost always certain to--

 Steve’s whole body tightened, spasmed; he came with a cry that almost sounded surprised, and Loki imagined he was drawing all of the Captain’s worry and sadness out as well, taking them into himself and devouring them.  Such a thought probably should have dampened his enjoyment of the act, but he quite happily took every drop, the flood of pleasure and satisfaction from his partner almost as intense for Loki himself even without an orgasm to call his own.

 Steve went slack with a hard out-breath, sweat breaking out over his flushed skin.  As always he was a beautiful sight, lips apart, eyes still shut tight, panting.  His fingers shook in Loki’s.

 “Rest,” Loki murmured to him, moving back up beside him, drawing the blankets over him before quickly stripping off his own clothes.  He slid back in and wrapped himself around Steve, ensuring as much skin-to-skin contact as possible.  The warmth and solidity was an immense comfort to them both.

 Steve said something unintelligible, already drifting off, but burrowing in as closely as he could.  His breath was slow, his energy ebbing quietly, and, looking at it with heightened vision, Loki saw it was indeed blue, and that the color looked much more…right, he supposed, on Steve than his own green ever had.  The Captain’s power was coming into its own; the world could only hope to be ready for it.

 His oblivion pulled at Loki’s mind, and Loki let himself follow it down, keeping careful hold of his own awareness as was required for lucid dreaming.  He sighed into Steve’s hair and closed his own eyes.

 Despite his confident assertions earlier Loki wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for or, really, how to find it.  He had directed their dreams many times but had never deliberately stepped into Steve’s mind the way he intended to, without Steve conscious of what he was seeing; it was an invasion of the ultimate privacy, and having had his own mind so thoroughly violated by Thanos it wasn’t something he would do to anyone he loved.  But this was different.  He had a mission, and more importantly he had permission. 

 He had to tread carefully.  He didn’t want to disturb anything, only to observe; if he let his own thoughts intrude too much it would wake Steve up, or worse give him nightmares in which they could both become mired. 

 At first he saw only the commonplace.  Most of the average person’s dreams, human or otherwise, were made up of snatches of everyday events and meaningless memories.  He watched shadows of Steve go through training drills, drink his favorite black coffee with sugar, and to Loki’s delight, watched the two of them together in a variety of situations both sexual and not.  Many of their dreamtime adventures through the realms featured in Steve’s slumbering mind; but then, so did many scenes of carnage and violence, with just enough distance due to time that they didn’t send him into a nightmare spiral.  These were old war memories, many years old, featuring figures Loki recognized:  Peggy Carter, Steve’s first love; and James Buchanan Barnes, his second, though Steve would never say as much.  He and the Winter Soldier had not been lovers, but their bond was more than friendship, and if they ever found one another again Loki had to wonder how Barnes would react to Steve’s new relationship.

 He dragged himself away from those thoughts for now, though, lest they grow too loud. 

 Loki wandered through the surface dreams, deeper into Steve’s subconscious, looking for things that seemed out of place.  It was a strangely comfortable place to drift…but after a while he became aware of something, not quite an energy current, not quite light, not quite shadow, but something moving through the Captain’s being, something that Loki sensed had only been a part of him for a little while.

 He followed it carefully.  It led him even deeper, among memories that were more faded with time, but then back out again, through the present, back again, as if it were weaving itself into place.

 There was something familiar about it.  He knew what Steve’s magical power felt like, and he could recognize that of a great many sorcerers he’d encountered over the years.  This…it was, he realized, similar to Frigga’s, though not hers exactly.  Her energy had, of course, been green in color and shimmering like gold.  This had that same shimmer, but no real color of its own.  It was something that, if he followed it in both directions, flowed into Steve, but not just from Frigga, from beyond her…through others.

 When he realized what he was seeing, he nearly jolted awake, but years of practice held him still long enough to back slowly out of Steve’s mind, gingerly withdrawing into himself until he woke, quietly and without any jostling.

 Loki lay blinking in the darkness for a while, heart hammering.  The import of what was happening hadn’t really sunk in until now. 

 A moment later, Steve stirred and opened his eyes, smiling…until he saw the look on Loki’s face.

 “What did you find?” 

 Unable to find words at first Loki sat up, and Steve did the same, staring at him intently but waiting.

 Finally Loki said, “Remember when I told you the legend of the dreamfasting…of how the land of Asgard herself spoke, and that first dreamfasting began the royal line?  It wasn’t entirely metaphor.  There are of course many bloodlines in Asgard, some of them belonging to lines of great warriors, some of great sages and seers.  But there is only one line of kings.”

 “Okay.”

 “There’s a reason your mutated DNA resembles Thor’s so closely.  It isn’t just because Frigga set out to make you Asgardian; she wanted someone who would be, in her mind, a worthy consort for her son…for me.  She raised me as her child, but I am not part of the line of kings.”  Loki met his eyes.  “But you are.”

 Steve stared at him.  “I don’t think I understand.”

 “In another few months your DNA, your blood, will be indistinguishable from Thor’s, or Odin’s.  You’ll have as much claim to the throne as any son Odin himself might sire.  You’ll be…you’ll be Thor’s brother, in a way I am not.  Not just Asgardian, not just Captain Steve Rogers…but a prince of Asgard.”  Loki took a deep breath.  “Odinson.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Extremely sugary romantic stuff ahead. 
> 
> Because I am a very mean, mean little woman.

 

Natasha was the first one to say anything about the beard.

 “So is that a SHIELD-regulation grooming situation?” she asked a little too casually as they finished sorting and restocking their weapons down in the armory.

 Steve smiled at her over the straps he was tightening.  “I didn’t ask.”

 Now she grinned.  “You know, it’s kind of hot.  I bet your boy likes it.”

 He felt his ears warm up just a bit as he replied, “He likes it now that it’s longer so it’s not…um, so it doesn’t tickle.”

 People were giving him strange looks since he’d stopped going clean-shaven.  It barely qualified as a beard, really, and was very carefully maintained precisely because he didn’t want to hear about it from Fury.  It was only a little longer than Tony’s.  But after staring at himself in the mirror his entire life and seeing nothing but a bare chin, he’d started to wonder, out of nowhere…

 Not out of nowhere, he reminded himself.  Very much somewhere…in fact it came from the same place as a lot of other things that he’d started to notice over the last few weeks…and now he was sure other people were noticing too.

 “I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”  Tash said after a moment of companionable silence while they inspected grenades.  “You never brought up that day in the Northwest, but…”

 “You saw what happened.  I know.  I saw you staring.”

 She replied quietly, though there was no one else down there; they both knew there were cameras, but that this part of the building didn’t have sound surveillance.  There was usually way too much noise down here from guns and machinery for even Stark’s system to filter out.  “I didn’t say anything to anyone.  Not even Sam, and I’m pretty sure he saw too.  You looked so rattled about it I knew it was something new.  Are you okay?”

 Steve sat down on one of the benches next to the weapons lockers.  “Yeah.  I was pretty freaked out about it at the time.  I’d never done anything like that, and it was…well, you know.  I didn’t know I had projective magic on that level.”  He looked down at his hands for a minute, remembering the flashes of light, the blood.   It still made him a little uneasy knowing he could do that.  “I’ve got it under control, though.  I’ve been training.”

 He didn’t add that the new adrenaline surges and the sense of battle being a rollicking good time rather than a necessity evil were actually _helping_ ; it was the loss of control over anger and fear that had caused the magic to slip his grasp, and if he was having fun in the fight he didn’t get angry.  He was learning to harness that surge and use it to keep the power at bay, but also to fuel it when he wanted to.  He’d expected it to take a lot longer to learn and be a lot more work…but it was surprisingly easy.  It came naturally. 

 Not to mention he had a good teacher.

 “But you didn’t tell Fury,” Tash said, drawing his attention back to her.

 “God no.”  He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.  “You know what would happen then.  I’d be back in the Zoo for good.”

 Natasha raised an eyebrow.  “You think so?  I think it would be something different…something you’d think was even worse.”

 He considered that for a second before understanding.  “You mean Fury would try to make me use it.”

 “Damn right he would.  He doesn’t trust Loki, but the idea of putting Captain America out in the field able to take out entire battalions without a single bullet…he couldn’t pass that up.  He’d have you push it to the limit to see how destructive you can be.  You saw how quick he was to take advantage of Wanda’s power.  Two Enhanced on the team?  He’d wet himself.”

 “You’re right.”   He met her eyes.   “Do you think I should tell him?  As much as I hate the idea, it is an advantage we’d have in the field.”

 She said something very rare, for Natasha:  “I don’t know.”  She sat down next to him with one of her newer guns and examined it mostly for show.  “We’re in uncharted territory, Rogers.”

 “Tell me about it.”  He stared up at the ceiling for a moment.  Should he tell her about the rest of it?  What, exactly, would he say?  That he was turning into an Asgardian prince?  He still wasn’t sure he understood what that even meant.  As long as he and Loki weren’t suddenly related, what difference did it really make what bloodline he had magically joined? 

 But something had changed since then.  Loki insisted it was fine, but Steve, for once, didn’t believe him.

 “There’s something…” he began, suddenly desperate for _someone_ to know, but didn’t get to finish; his comm went off.

  _“Captain Rogers, I need to see you as soon as possible,”_ Fury said.  _“Agent Romanov, you too.”_

 “On our way,” Steve said.

 They looked at each other, both analyzing the tone.  “That didn’t sound too urgent,” Natasha observed.  “Maybe for once it’s about employee benefits and not a life-or-death mission.”

 Steve raised an eyebrow at her.  “You think so?”

 She smiled.  “A girl can dream.”

  

*****

 To his surprise, it wasn’t just him and Natasha who’d been summoned to Fury’s office.  Sam was there too.

 “Secure office,” Fury said once they’d arrived.  All around them, the windows shuttered, the doors locked, and Steve knew that signal-jamming software and anti-surveillance equipment all kicked into gear.  The office was already the most secure place in HQ, but for the moment it was probably the most secure in the entire time zone.

 Steve sat down between Tash and Sam, and again the sight of Fury without his trademark eyepatch was a little startling even though his eye had been healed for months now.  Fury still wore the patch outside this room so that the rest of the world would still underestimate his eyesight. 

 “This morning I received word that our operatives in Budapest have located Sergeant James Barnes,” Fury said.  “They’re waiting on my word whether to try and bring him in.”

 Steve sat up straight.  “What?”

 An image projected on the screen next to them:  A city streetcorner, a figure in a baseball cap buying what looked like plums from a vendor.  Steve’s heart began to pound as he recognized that profile, the way he moved, the slightly hunted glance he darted around the plaza after handing over his money. 

 Fury regarded Steve silently for a second before saying, “Look, I know you and Wilson here have been trying to find Barnes since DC.  Obviously SHIELD has been trying to find him too, but I’ve had my own people sweeping the airwaves and internet for any signs on the sly.  This is literally the first good intel I’ve had--as you can imagine he’s been a ghost.”

 “I don’t suppose you can just leave him be.”

 “I’m afraid not.  He has too much intelligence and too much involvement with Hydra’s higher-ups.  And we need to know more about what they did to Barnes and if they did it to anyone else.  If he was a success story there are surely more.  Also we need to know if you were right when you said he saved your life--if he broke through the conditioning they put on him, he could be a valuable asset, and if he didn’t…”

 “Then he’s a threat.”

 “A damn big one.”

 He sat forward this time, hands digging into the arms of the chair.  “Then you have to send me in, Nick.  Nobody else can handle him.”

 Another long stare.  “You’re in luck, Rogers.  I happen to agree with you.  I was already planning to send you three to Budapest--you’re going to need backup but I don’t trust just any agents with a situation this delicate.  Ideally he’ll recognize you and come in willingly.”

 “And if he doesn’t that’s why we’re going,” Natasha said with a nod.  “To take him down.”

 “Not if you can avoid it.  SHIELD as a whole may consider him a liability but I think killing him would be a waste and a mistake.  Your mission is to bring Barnes in in one piece.”

 They looked at each other, then back at Fury, and all three nodded in agreement.

 Fury gave them a measured nod in return.  “Wheels up in two hours.”

  

*****

 Awake or asleep, Steve always knew where to find Loki in HQ; all he had to do was reach out with his senses, and he would find a bright-burning green energy in his mind, beckoning.

 Fury had reluctantly let Loki move out of the Zoo, and now he and Steve occupied adjoining quarters.  They each respected the other’s space and only crossed thresholds when invited.

 He knocked, waited for the sense of acknowledgment from inside, and used his key card to unlock the door.

 As always, seeing Loki made his pulse catch.  He was sitting in his favorite spot, a storage bench that ran beneath the room’s single window, creating a nook.  Loki had piled up cushions there as well as the precisely stacked tower of his current reading.  He was, just now, lounging there with long legs outstretched, a large volume on his lap, a cup of coffee in his hand.  Crow-feather black hair fell down around his shoulders, an errant strand over his forehead.  The high angles of his face were softened in the room’s light, and all he was missing was a pair of wings to make him truly and ironically angelic.

 He was literally breathtaking.  Steve had to pause with his hand on the doorknob to steady himself for a second. 

 Loki looked up at his entry and smiled like starlight emerging from a clouded sky, but as soon as he saw Steve’s face, the smile vanished.  “What is it?”

 “I have to go,” the Captain replied.  “I mean, on a mission.  Just for a couple of days, I hope.”

 Loki raised an eyebrow.  “And…?”

 Steve sighed.  It _had_ been a dumb way to say it; he went on mission all the time, almost never with much more warning than this.  It was hardly novel.  “This one…”  He closed the door behind him and came over; Loki pulled his feet back to give him room to sit, and Steve reached for his hand instinctively, taking strength from the feel of his fingers. 

 “I think we found him,” Steve managed after a minute. 

 He didn’t have to say whom.  “Sergeant Barnes.”

 “Yeah.  Fury’s sending me and Tash and Sam to bring him in.”

 Genuine worry crept into Loki’s face and voice.  “The last time you fought him…”

 “This won’t be like that,” Steve tried to reassure him.  “I’m not going there as an enemy.  Fury thinks there’s a chance he’s still mind-wiped and won’t know me, but I know he will.  He did.  He saved my life, and I seriously doubt Hydra got hold of him again after that.  He’s hiding out in Budapest, alone.  And I’ll have the others with me.  But I’m not in it to fight, I just want to talk to him to start with, see if I can get him to come back with me willingly.”

 “Why on Earth would he do that?”  Loki asked incredulously, frowning.  “Surely he knows what SHIELD would do with him.  If he is very lucky he’ll end up in the Zoo for the rest of his life and not shot in the back of the head in a shallow grave with CLOSED stamped on his file.”

 “That won’t happen,” Steve snapped.  He stood up, suddenly too agitated to meet Loki’s gaze.  “I won’t let it.  I’m not letting anyone else use him.”

 “And what do you expect to happen if you bring him here?”  Loki leaned forward, deadly serious.  “Steve, it’s not like you to be naïve.  Fury doesn’t let a weapon go unfired.”

 “He let you stay,” Steve pointed out, grasping for anything that would defy the words that he knew, deep down, were true.  “You’re not even stuck in the Zoo anymore, and look at everything you’ve done.”

 Loki went silent and just looked at him.  It wasn’t a reproachful look, or one of guilt, but simply one of quiet analysis. 

 “Do you really believe Fury has no plans for me?” Loki asked after a moment.  “Can you honestly say you haven’t been waiting for the penny to drop on his intentions since I brought you and your fellows back from Hydra’s clutches that day and surrendered myself to him?  You told me yourself not to trust him.”

 Yes, he had.  Steve had no doubt Fury had a contingency plan for the second Loki became a liability.  Lock him away somewhere a mile underground, perhaps, where he was still alive but in solitary confinement away from Steve except in their sleep.  At least Fury seemed to have bought that the dreamfasting couldn’t be broken…but there were many ways to ruin something without breaking it. 

 He sank back down onto the window seat with a heavy sigh.  “I need to find him, Loki.  I don’t really want to bring him here, but if he needs help…I owe him that.”

 That steady gaze became penetrating.  “Do you love him?”

 Steve made a helpless gesture.  “I don’t…not like this.  Not like I love you.  But…”

 “You were more than friends,” he replied, nodding.  “That much I knew.”  He smiled a little and slid one hand up to curve around Steve’s face.  “I am loath to share you, of course, but I know how complicated your history is.”

 “I would never ask you to share me.  Besides, life with you is all I need in the romance department.  Plus, to be honest, I don’t think Buck ever really felt that way about a guy, me or anyone else.”

 “That does simplify things.”  Despite the wryness of the words, however, Loki’s expression was still worried, and Steve had to wonder if the prospect of a fight was really the problem. 

 “Before I go…I have to ask you something.”

 An eyebrow lifted.

 “This thing with my DNA.  You said it didn’t bother you, but I know it does.  Can you tell me why?”

 Loki tilted his head to the side.  “Can you not think of a reason?”

 “Well I know it’s not because we’d be related.  That’s a bit of a stretch even for the most melodramatic family.”

 “No.  It’s not that.”  He looked down at their joined hands.  “Imagine someone came along claiming to be Sergeant Barnes’s closest friend even though they had never even met.  And not only that, imagine they claimed to also be a military leader with super strength…but were free of all your faults, your shortcomings…well, if you had any.”

 Understanding finally dawned.  “You feel like you’ve been pushed even farther away from Thor and your parents.”  Steve leaned forward until their foreheads touched and said, “You know I have zero interest in being related to Odin.  Or Thor.  As far as I’m concerned the whole thing is a technicality, that’s it.  I had to be part of some bloodline, I guess, and Frigga wanted to be sure it was a strong one and a match for her kid.  That’s as far as it goes for me.”

 Loki looked into his eyes.  “You’re sure of that.”

 “Of course I am.  If I’m going to be part of your family I’d much rather be an in-law.”

 “Why, Captain Rogers, is that a proposal?”  Loki asked with a soft smile, some of his good mood returning.   

 Steve grinned.  “Don’t you think we’ve already got something better than marriage?”

 Loki kissed him then - slowly, almost with reverence, until Steve felt drunk on it, on him.  Drawing back so his breath ghosted over Steve’s lips, he asked, “If I offered you a ring would you take it?”

 He was still sure Loki was kidding, and asked, “Oh, do you have one?”

 Loki smiled and turned Steve’s palm up, crossing it with his own; there, sitting on Steve’s lifeline, were two rings in a bluish silver metal, each etched with a rayed star and a series of Runes--their names, he realized.

 Steve couldn’t breathe. 

 “They’re more than they appear,” Loki said quickly.  “I’ve been working on them for a while now--they’ll enable us to reach the dreamfasting state for short periods of time while awake so we can communicate when sleep would be inconvenient or impossible.”

 Still barely able to speak, Steve lifted his hand so the metal caught the light.  “Is this…”

 “Vibranium.  Earth isn’t the only place it can be found.”

 He caught sight of more carving inside the bands, and read it in a whisper:  “The heart that beats within this ring is more my own than mine.”

 “I have very little to offer you,” Loki told him.  “No throne, no bloodline, nothing but whatever it is I am and everything you have made me want to be.  But if you would have me in all my broken glory, I am yours.”

 He could feel, through the magic that had become part of his blood and the hammering of his heart, the weight of that moment, as if the entire world was about to pivot off axis and a thousand possible stories were all collapsing into one truth.  But nothing else mattered just then but the way every drop of that blood was shouting - no, singing - and the catch he heard in his own voice as he said, “And I’m yours.”

 Each slid a ring onto the other’s finger, the metal warm and almost humming the same way his shield seemed to.  Gripping each other’s hands tightly, they sat in silence for a moment, until Steve said softly, “This really is forever.”

 Their eyes met.  “Is that all right?”

 He found his eyes burning even as he laughed. “Oh hell yes.”

 The kiss started as a benediction but quickly became an invocation.  Fierce, overwhelming joy like nothing he’d ever felt rushed over him and, with as much care as he could manage in his haste, he hauled Loki off onto the floor, kissing him feverishly.

  _“Captain Rogers, wheels up in 20.”_

  Tony would have had a field day with the string of curses Steve muttered at the intercom’s intrustion.  As it was, it was enough to make Loki laugh.  Steve groaned and buried his face in Loki’s neck for a minute, breathing deeply, for a moment not caring about Bucky or anything else but staying right here. 

 “Go,” Loki sighed into his hair.  “The sooner you leave the sooner you’ll be home.”

 “Don’t worry,” Steve replied.  “The minute I’m back I’m taking you to bed and we’re staying there for a week.”

 “I’ll hold you to that.” 

 As Steve got up, pulling Loki along with him and briefly into his arms, where they held onto each other tightly for a moment before he had to force himself to step back.

 “Don’t get lost,” Loki told him.

 Steve smiled and held up his hand.  “Even if I do I’ve got this to guide me back.”

 With that, he forced himself to leave before he lost all his remaining willpower. 

 Neither Tash nor Sam commented on his uncharacteristic near-lateness when he walked on board the jet.  They were in fact talking to each other about the route, and he managed to stow his gear and buckle in for takeoff without betraying the wild whirl of emotion spinning in his chest.  A moment later Tash dropped into the seat beside his.

 “Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked while the doors of the hanger opened overhead, exposing a sky that was painfully blue. 

 Steve leaned back and checked himself.  Was he?  “I hope so.”

 Something in his voice made her frown, and she started to say something, but her eyes lit on his crossed arms--no, not on his arms, on his left hand.  “Steve…”

 He met her gaze.  “Yeah?”

 “Is that a wedding ring?”

 He took a deep breath.  “Sort of.  As much as it can be, I guess.”  Her expression changed, and he added, “Don’t start, Tash.”

 She was staring at the ring as she said,  “Okay.”

 Steve hadn’t realized Sam could even hear them, but the pilot said over the engine hum, “Be careful, man - I’ve seen the movies.  I know if the hero’s happy enough to put rings on fingers he’s probably going to die in the next scene.”

 He looked from Sam’s wry amusement to Tash’s obvious misgivings and sighed.  “This is going to be a long flight.”


End file.
